


We Need To Talk About Loki

by NamelesslyNightlock



Series: Going Down Swinging [87]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Asgardian Tony Stark, Bad Decisions, Fighting Dirty, Flirting, Fluff, Happy Ending, Horseback Riding, Humor, Innuendo, Loki (Marvel) Does What He Wants, M/M, Near Death Experiences, Oblivious, POV Outsider, POV Thor (Marvel), Plans, Protective Loki (Marvel), Relationship Reveal, Romantic Tension, Secret Relationship, Thor and his friends are not usually in charge of the plans, Thor is a Good Bro (Marvel), Tony Stark Does What He Wants, Wrestling, there's only one bed, there's only one horse, this is why
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:15:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27877450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NamelesslyNightlock/pseuds/NamelesslyNightlock
Summary: Anthony and Loki are quite clearly in love with each other. In fact, Thor's quite sure they’re the only ones who haven’t noticed....or, five times Thor and his friends have a plan to get Loki and Anthony together, and one time they realise they never needed a plan at all.
Relationships: Fandral & Hogun & Loki & Sif & Thor & Volstagg (Marvel), Fandral & Hogun & Sif & Thor & Volstagg, Loki & Thor (Marvel), Loki/Tony Stark
Series: Going Down Swinging [87]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1330490
Comments: 62
Kudos: 448





	We Need To Talk About Loki

**Author's Note:**

> If there is anyone waiting for me to answer comments, I apologise. I'm swamped irl at the moment, with the additional bonus of my laptop needing to be repaired, and I dislike typing on my phone. ~~I'm posting this from my work laptop in an incognito window. The things I do to try and stick to a challenge.~~ I'll get to them all as soon as I'm able!  
>   
>  **Prompt** — _“Let me help.”_

Thor had always considered his brother to be rather intelligent, in more ways than one. Loki had always outperformed him in their studies, even though Thor was the older of the pair– and he had always been wily enough to never get caught, no matter what clever plot he had terrorised the castle with. Loki was always the more skilled at strategy, the defter hand at diplomacy, and there was never a puzzle that he couldn’t solve.

Well.

Except, perhaps, for Anthony.

Anthony was a friend of theirs, ever since childhood. He had been Thor’s friend the longest, but they all knew that he was Loki’s friend _first._ He and Loki spent almost all their time together, all the time that their respective positions allowed. Anthony was a match for Loki not only in intellect but also wit, and they certainly brought out the best in each other. They were never smiling quite so brightly as they did in each other’s presence.

And they were, quite obviously, in love with each other.

Not that either of them seemed to have noticed.

Anthony flirted with near on everyone, but not like he flirted with Loki. If a pretty girl turned him down for a dance Anthony would only laugh it off, but if Loki so much as refused an offer of a drink, Anthony’s expression would fall as if he’d just been told he would lose his hands and never be able to smith again. 

Loki, on the other hand, stared after Anthony as if he were the reason the World Tree stood tall. His eyes would follow Anthony’s every move, and would always find him in a crowded hall in a matter of moments. 

They so clearly _adored_ each other, and had been yearning for each other now for going on centuries. 

Now, Thor really does love his brother, and he _knows_ that Loki _can_ be intelligent. But honestly, enough was enough, and they had long since passed the point where something needed to be done. 

Thankfully, his friends all seemed to be in agreement, and when Thor organised a Super Secret Meeting which was so clandestine even one such as _Loki_ would never be able to get wind of it, his friends already seemed to know what was up without Thor needing to tell them. 

He did so anyway, of course. Just in case. 

“We need to talk about Loki,” Thor told them all, leaning forward over the table. They were ensconced on a table right in the middle of the busiest tavern in the town, and the noise level was so high that they all had to lean forward to be able to hear each other over the din. “Him and Anthony both.” 

“We do indeed,” said Volstagg, his loud voice only _just_ audible. “It is reaching the point of ridiculousness.”

“If I have to watch Loki stare wistfully as Anthony asks another girl to dance, I am going to slit his throat myself,” Sif muttered. “I can’t stand those wide eyes, it’s unbecoming of a prince—”

“And if I have to listen to another of Anthony’s drunken tales bemoaning about how he’s never going to find anyone who wants to spend a life with him and he’s going to be alone forever, then I will take Loki by the ankles and feed him to a bilgesnipe,” Fandral added. Then he paused. “Oh, ah, begging your pardon, Thor.”

“Oh, none to be given, I would be beside you assisting you with that endeavour,” Thor said seriously. “But this truly cannot go on. We need a plan.”

“Agreed,” said Fandral, the first to chime in, still a little flushed from his earlier words. The others joined him, and even Hogun, usually rather silent, spoke up in support.

So that was it. 

Prince Thor, Lady Sif, and the Warrior’s Three. They were undefeated on the field of battle, a team unlike any other– surely they would be able to handle this. 

Even if the battle was to be fought against the idiocy of two of their friends. 

**_One._ Thor.**

When Thor came up with the plan, he was _sure_ that it would work. He had heard his mother speak about how _romantic_ her gardens could be many times, and while he was rather sure she had been hoping Thor would bring a lady there for a walk, he was equally sure that Frigga would not mind what he was planning. It was in the interest of Loki’s happiness, after all.

The plan was rather simple. Hogun and Fandral each sent a message via a guard to Loki and Anthony, telling them that they were planning on eating lunch in the gardens. Thor ensured that the cook prepared only the most romantic of foods, while Volstagg – the only one of the lot of them that had a current partner at all, let alone one he was married to – helped Lady Sif create a setting for a romantic picnic.

It was going to work.

It _had_ to work.

They couldn’t risk staying in the garden, knowing that Loki and Anthony would spot their presence quickly, so they headed back to the Main Hall to eat their own lunch. They ate slowly and spoke loudly, their spirits high as they were sure they would no longer have to endure the pining they had _all_ been suffering through for longer than any man – or woman, in Sif’s case – should ever have to withstand.

It was some time before Loki and Anthony arrived, though sadly, not as long as Thor had hoped. Neither of them looked particularly ruffled either, with all of their clothes and hair in place, and not a mark on their skin. As much as Thor didn’t like to think of his little brother participating in such activities, evidence of them would have proved the success of the plan.

Still, Thor held some hope– at least until Loki crossed his arms and started talking.

“Brother,” Loki said, his voice cold– and even though Thor was looking down at his plate, he could picture Loki’s arched brow _perfectly_. “Did you forget something?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Thor said, taking a big bite out of his meat.

“You all sent a message to say that we were to have lunch in the gardens today.”

“Oh, did we?” Thor said, making sure he was still chewing on his food as he spoke so his brother wouldn’t be looking at his face too closely and be able to pick out the lie. “I didn’t know that. The message must not have reached us. Did any of you get a message?”

The others all shook their heads, their mouths full of food, apparently utilising a similar strategy to Thor so they would not have to speak.

“Never mind,” Loki muttered, turning away in obvious distaste. “I hope you all know that you missed quite the feast. It seemed the cook was under the impression that it was some kind of special occasion.”

Anthony lingered a moment longer. “It really was a good feast,” he told them– and then when Loki called his name, Anthony shot them all a grin before moving to follow after him like the lovesick fool that he was. 

“By the Nine,” Thor groaned the moment the pair were out of earshot, slamming his hands down on the table. “I was so sure that would work.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Sif replied. “We shall just have to try again, that is all.”

“She’s right,” added Fandral. “They have been at this so long it was foolish to think we would succeed on the first attempt. But that does not mean that we will not succeed at all.”

“Yes,” said Thor, feeling his spirits rise. “Of course, you are quite right. Does anyone else have any ideas?”

“Actually,” said Volstagg, running a hand through his beard in thought. “I think I might have something.” 

**_Two._ Volstagg.**

Volstagg’s plan was rather simple, and he seemed certain that it would work, since it was, apparently, the way that he had met his wife. They didn’t even need to arrange much– they just had to lay in wait, the five of them hiding around a corner and waiting for Loki and Anthony to approach. Thor made sure that _he_ was right on the edge and able to see properly, since Loki was _his_ brother after all, and therefore he should have first claim on such things.

“This would be so much easier if we had Loki helping us,” Fandral whispered from where he was pressed against Thor’s shoulder. “He has a talent for such things.”

“We can hardly hire Loki to help trip himself up,” Sif hissed. “Now quiet, they’re coming.”

Thor’s heart quickened with excitement as he saw that she was right. The pair of not-quite-yet-but-hopefully-soon-would-be lovers were laughing between themselves as they walked, so close beside each other that their arms brushed with every step. They were looking down at something in Loki’s hands, their heads tilted together as if they were only a moment from sharing a kiss. Thor wondered if a better plan wouldn’t be to just charge forward, grab them by the hair and shove their faces together—

But then Volstagg barrelled down the hallway, chasing after the hound he had brought to the palace for this very reason.

“Ragnar!” Volstagg shouted, his hands outstretched. “Get back here you useless dog—”

But Ragnar was having _far_ too much fun, and he wasn’t about to listen. That, of course, was the plan.

Except… Thor had thought that Volstagg’s hound was a _little_ smaller than that, and– had he always been able to run so fast?

Thor felt a pit of dread settle in his stomach, but it was too late to stop this now. Ragnar was on the move, and Thor didn’t want to watch, though he found he couldn’t help himself—

Anthony glanced up but he was far too slow to get out of the way—

Ragnar bowled into his legs—

Anthony went flying—

He crashed into Loki who was not prepared enough to catch him, and the two of them went flailing to the ground with a yell and a heavy _crack_.

Volstagg paused for a second, staring at the pair on the floor with a wince, before he charged off again in the direction Ragnar had gone, leaving Anthony and Loki alone.

Unfortunately, it seemed that staying as a mediator might have been the better choice– because Thor knew that look on his brother’s face all too well. He’d put it there often enough, after all.

“You utter _fool,”_ Loki hissed, struggling to his feet and staring down at his hands. Thor winced as he recognised the broken piece of wood Loki was cradling. It was a carving that he had been working on for weeks, only using his hands and not a single drop of seiðr. Loki had been planning on gifting it to their mother for her nameday. And he understood _exactly_ why Loki’s eyes were burning with fire as he glared down at Anthony, not even offering him a hand up.

“Loki,” Anthony said slowly, quickly getting up himself and holding out his hands as if in surrender. “I’m sorry. But look, that was hardly my fault—”

“You tripped me over—”

“It was that dog—”

“You should have been more careful! Look at what you did—”

“You can fix it, can’t you?” Anthony asked, his voice desperate. “With your seiðr?”

Thor could have told him that it was the wrong thing to say– though of course, Anthony seemed to realise it the moment Loki’s face went blank.

“Lokes, no, I’m sorry,” Anthony said quickly. “That’s… there’ll be another way to fix it, it’ll– you’ll see—”

Loki just turned on his heel and stalked away, gripping the broken wood so tightly that his knuckles turned white. It was a wonder that he wasn’t splintering it further.

“Loki!” Anthony pleaded. “Loki, wait!” He hurried straight past a returning Volstagg and Ragnar without even a glance, too focused on following Loki to even notice them. And the moment he had turned a corner, the rest of them piled out into the main hallway to meet their friend.

“Oh, that did not go well,” Fandral groaned.

“That’s certainly one of way of putting it,” muttered Hogun.

“Well,” Volstagg said, an involuntary wince taking away some of the effectiveness of his nonchalant shrug– though whether that was due to the failure of the plan or the fact that the dog Volstagg was hanging on to was trying to tug out of his grip, Thor couldn’t say. “Look on the bright side. If this ruined their chances entirely, then I suppose the problem is still solved?”

Sif rolled her eyes with an unimpressed noise and walked away. Thor couldn’t say he blamed her. _Honestly_. He pinned Volstagg with a heavy stare.

“Aw, come on, you know what I mean,” Volstagg explained. “If Loki hates him, then we don’t have to put up with pining anymore.”

Thor grit his teeth, and was about to point out that this wasn’t just about them. This was about _Loki’s happiness_. But then, someone else beat him to it.

“You know they’ll just go back to staring at each other in ten minutes, you idiot,” Fandral said, whacking him over the head. “No. You guys are so stuck on all this romancing that you’re not thinking of what _really_ paves the way to a man’s heart.”

“Fandral,” Thor warned, “Please, tell me you are not speaking of my brother’s—”

“Look, they’ve been trying to romance each other for centuries, and all they’re seeing is friendship. If we want to make them see something else, then we’ve got make a _visible_ sign of it, yes?”

“I am very glad Lady Sif is not here to listen to this,” Hogun sighed, his eyes turning to the sky. 

“Ach.” Fandral waved a hand. “She’s heard a lot worse, I can promise you that. Now, come on. Do you want to get these two idiots together, or not?”

**_Three._ Fandral.**

Fandral’s plan, while crude, admittedly held some promise. It did have to wait until the morning, but that merely gave them more time to lay out their plot– and by the time they all arrived for their sparring session at the break of dawn, the five plotters felt… well, if not _confident_ , then at least like they might _maybe_ make some progress.

It was easy enough to arrange, though this time, the task fell upon Thor, since he was usually the one who decided upon sparring partners– so all he had to do was make sure that Loki and Anthony had to fight each other.

When they had arrived – together, as always – it had seemed that they had put their argument behind them. But when Thor called them to take their positions, they both grinned with a kind of viciousness that would have had anyone worried.

Thankfully, Thor knew them well enough to recognise that they were simply preparing for a good bit of fun.

“You are so going to eat the dirt, Loki,” Anthony taunted, leaning forward and adjusting his grip on his sword. “If you don’t eat my steel first.”

“Oh, I won’t be tasting your sword today, Anthony,” Loki said. “I think I will be the one to come out on top.” Loki’s voice was sweet, _dangerously_ so, and from the glint in Anthony’s eye he knew what it meant as well as Thor did. Loki was not about to give in easily– he was still harbouring anger.

Hopefully, all that passion could be turned into something else.

 _Hopefully_.

Thor cleared his throat. “You misheard me,” he said, exchanging a glance with Fandral. “This spar will be _without_ weapons.” 

“Wrestling?” Loki immediately complained, bravado turning to disdain. “No. I will _not_ roll around in the dirt—”

“It is an important skill, Loki,” Thor told him. “What would you do if you lost your weapon in battle?”

Loki stared at him impassively. “I would summon another one.”

“Aw, come on Lokes, it’ll be fun,” Anthony taunted. “Or… are you just scared that you’ll lose?” 

Well.

That did it.

Loki’s expression hardened, and it took no further argument for him to take his place. A challenge had been issued, and Loki was not about to step down from it.

They circled each other at first, both of them the type to make calculated moves over a mindless charge of brute strength. But, as Thor could have predicted, Anthony was the one who made the first move, running in then ducking low as he aimed to tackle Loki to the ground. Loki stepped out of the way with an agility that Thor had always admired before snapping out with an arm to catch Anthony unawares. Loki’s fist met Anthony’s palm, and then Anthony twisted Loki’s arm around– but Loki only used the momentum to pull Anthony around with him, the pair of them spinning together for a moment. Then Anthony lashed out with a punch aimed to Loki’s jaw, and they separated again– only to come back together once more with another set of steps.

It was almost mesmerising to watch the pair of them, both with fighting styles so different to Thor’s own. They were about dodging and redirecting rather than attacking with heavy blows, and the result was a flowing rhythm not unlike a dance.

But then the rhythm shattered as Anthony broke the mould, throwing himself directly at Loki—

Who disappeared in a shimmer of green seiðr, and Anthony went tumbling straight to the ground.

“That has to be against the rules,” Anthony groaned, rolling over first onto his side before clambering back upright.

“I was told I could not use _weapons_ ,” Loki said, some several feet from where he – or perhaps his illusion – had been mere moments before. “No one banned my use of seiðr.”

Anthony’s eyes narrowed at that, though they were gleaming with enjoyment. Thor felt hope as he saw Loki’s grin turn wicked in response– they were both having _fun_ with this, though neither was going easy on the other.

The dance started anew then, but far fiercer, no holds barred. It was clear they were pulling their punches as no blood was drawn, but they threw each other to the ground without ceremony, and then wrestled with very little elegance left to be seen. Loki’s expression was twisted into a snarl as he shoved and hit and clawed, and Anthony was all but growling as he gave as good as he got. Gone was the dance of before– the scuffle turned brutal, and Thor and the others couldn’t help but cheer them on despite the outcome they were hoping for.

It seemed like an even fight for good while– but then Loki had an opening, and Thor knew he was going to win. Except… then something happened that Thor didn’t quite catch. Anthony leaned up so that his face was at the side of Loki’s head, and he did something that caused Loki to pause—

And then when Loki’s back next hit the ground with Anthony’s hands either side of his head, they stayed there.

Loki looked a little dazed, as if he couldn’t believe that he had lost. Both of them were breathing heavily, their pants matching the hammering of Thor’s heart. His own breath was frozen in his throat as he watched, the anticipation almost too much to bear. They should have stood by now, if they were just two ordinary friends– but they remained on the ground, their bodies pressed together as they stared into each other’s eyes.

“Here we go,” Fandral whispered, his voice already laced with pride—

But then, Anthony rolled off Loki and the pair stood up, both grinning with the adrenaline of the fight– and, apparently, nothing more than that.

“Good match,” Anthony said, holding out his hand. And when Loki took it in a firm handshake, Thor felt the odd desire to slam his head into the ground.

**_Four._ Hogun.**

When Hogun told Thor his idea, Thor nearly dismissed it out of hand. After all, it would be far more difficult to arrange than any of the others, and not only that– but it included far more risk of discovery.

But… what other choice did they have? They were beginning to exhaust their options, and Loki and Anthony still had not realised that they were in love with each other. That is to say… Thor was fairly certain they knew that they, _themselves_ were in love. They just hadn’t realised that their other half felt the same way. 

Thor knew that they must both be in pain with it, and just as he had said to Volstagg earlier in their crusade– this was no longer about putting an ending to the pining for their own sake. This was about helping those two idiots before they broke their own hearts.

And if he and his friends had to put a bit of extra work in for it, then… well. So be it.

It was certainly tricky– they needed an excuse to get a good portion of the palace horses out of the stables, or at least some reason why they could not be ridden. There were a few suggestions from the group ranging from ridiculous to dangerous, but in the end, Thor bribed the stable hand handsomely– _very_ handsomely, since it took a lot to convince someone to lie to Loki, even if it was Thor doing the asking.

And when they arrived at the stable on the first morning of their planned hunting trip, it was to find that most of the stalls had notices on them bearing poor news.

Loki, predictably, was not impressed in the slightest. (He rarely ever was, now that Thor was thinking about it.)

“They are ill, your highness,” the stable hand explained, his voice trembling. Thor doubted he was doing it on purpose, and he just hoped Loki would attribute the shaking to the simple fear of speaking to a prince than to fear of lying to one. “There are…” he gulped. “Only six horses available today.”

Loki’s eyes narrowed, and Thor worried for a moment that he would ask to examine them himself. 

“It’s no bother,” Thor said loudly, hoping to avert Loki’s likely question. “There is no need to cancel our trip. Anthony, you shall just have to ride with one of us.”

Loki huffed, but did not argue. They set about saddling the six ‘available’ horses, and they tied Anthony’s bedroll onto Volstagg’s saddle, while his saddlebag was attached to Fandral’s. That, of course, just left the question of who Anthony would ride with.

Thor, of course, leapt on the opportunity.

“You shall ride with me, Anthony,” he said loudly. “Hogun, take my bedroll so there is room for—”

“No,” Loki interrupted loudly in sudden outburst– and when they all turned to him curiously, his cheeks flushed a light pink. Loki cleared his throat and lifted his chin with an arrogant tilt, and when next he spoke his voice was far more controlled.

Thor had to smother his grin.

“No,” Loki said again. “Anthony will ride with _me_. I am slighter than you, and the horse will not have to bear so much weight.”

“Are you calling me fat?” Thor asked, using the affronted tone to hide his amusement– and if any slipped through, well, it would only be natural, wouldn’t it?

“I would never, dear brother,” Loki said. “I am merely complimenting you on your impressive muscle mass. You are, of course, in excellent shape.”

Thor _obviously_ had an excellent and incredibly witty comeback at the ready, but he did not want to disrupt the plan, so he didn’t voice it. Instead, he rolled his eyes and obligingly tied Loki’s bedroll alongside his own, so that there would be room for Anthony on Loki’s horse.

Now, usually, when two men share a horse for whichever reason, the one holding the reins will sit in the front, while the other sits behind and holds on to the first man’s waist. That was just the more efficient method, for it means that the first rider has better control over the horse, and the second only needs to keep a good grip.

So when Thor saw Loki gesture for Anthony to sit in _front_ of him, and Loki held the reins so that his arms were wrapped around Anthony’s sides… well. It was _hopeful,_ that’s all. 

Their ride was smooth at first, their usual buoyant chatter ringing through the air between their steeds. But then Sif must have done some quick thinking, for she insisted upon a race the moment they reached open ground. The increased pace meant that Loki had to wrap his arms more firmly around Anthony to hold him in place, and– well. Thor rather hoped that the jolting movement might arouse… other things that he would not speak of in Lady Sif’s presence.

But when he reached the finish line, Thor turned expectantly– only to find that Loki and Anthony had trailed behind. Even despite the distance between them, Thor could see the way that they were grinning, clearly having a rather lively conversation between the two of them as they walked their horse over the ground the rest had covered had a rapid gallop. Neither of them looked uncomfortable, nor even worried in the slightest. They were just _talking_ , despite the way that they were pressed together.

Thor supposed that the centuries of yearning must have given them both a resistance of steel. That was the _only_ explanation Thor could come up with for this level of ridiculousness.

“It is odd,” Hogun commented, frowning at the failure of his idea. “I have never seen either of them resist such a challenge as a race before, not when there was nothing better for them to be doing.”

“Loki is clearly, ah, wary,” said Fandral, his expression twisting in sympathy as he exchanged a glance with Volstagg. “I do not blame him. I know that if I had the object of my affections pressed up against me, then I wouldn’t want them bouncing around either.”

“I don’t think Loki sees Anthony as a mere object,” Thor muttered– though he had to concede that Fandral probably did have a point there. If they could think of a way to _make_ Loki’s horse run faster… but, no. That probably wouldn’t be worth he risk.

“No,” Sif said slowly. “I don’t think he does either. But that _is_ the problem. If they just wanted to fuck, then that could be arranged easily enough. It is their feelings that are the…” she trailed off, and then blinked. “Oh.”

“What is it?” Thor asked.

“I think I just had an idea,” Sif said, curiously– and her gaze fell to the extra bedroll tied to Volstagg’s saddle.

**_Five._ Sif.**

“What do you mean you _lost it?”_ Anthony asked, sounding almost hysterical. Thor didn’t really blame him for it– it was a cruel trick, and it would mean that the man either had to freeze or share with someone else.

Which, of course, had been the whole reason for Volstagg subtly loosening the knots on Anthony’s bedding and ‘loosing’ it over the edge of cliff, but Anthony did not need to know that.

“It was an accident,” Volstagg complained, whining enough that even Thor almost believed him. “Come on, it wasn’t my fault—”

“I’m not like you guys,” Anthony said. “I can’t afford to just buy new stuff all the time. Do you even know how much these things cost?”

“It is fine,” Loki said, his venomous glare softening into a smile as he turned his gaze from Volstagg to Anthony. “I shall procure you a new one when we return home.”

Anthony shook his head. “You don’t have to do that,” he muttered. “I’ll be able to manage.”

“You helped me fix my carving for mother,” Loki said quietly. “Let me help you with this.”

Anthony’s expression shuttered a moment before it softened into something gentle, and then he gave Loki a nod.

Thor understood, of course. Anthony was - by society’s standards, anyway - the lowest in the group, and he didn’t like to feel that he owed the others anything. He wasn’t with them because he was a fierce warrior, though he had certainly grown to be one due to the amount of time he spent with them. He was with them because he was their _friend_ , and his position did not stop any of them from seeing him so.

Nor was it enough to stop Loki from loving him, something that was as clear as day in the way that his eyes brightened at Anthony’s agreement.

It was the greatest of shames and the worst kind of torment that Anthony was the only one who could not see it. In fact, Anthony looked away entirely, glancing down to the hard ground of the forest floor where they had chosen to camp.

“And I guess for now, I will just have to do without,” Anthony muttered. “That’s fine. I’ve slept on worse before.”

“Nonsense,” Loki said immediately– and predictably. Would you look at that, Thor was starting to learn to predict his chaotic little brother, and it had only taken this whole mess for him to manage it. “You shall have half of my blankets.”

“No,” Sif said quickly. “It is supposed to be cold tonight. With only half of your blankets, you’ll freeze.”

“I know how a cast a spell that will keep us both warm,” Loki said, speaking only to Anthony as if the others did not exist. “We shall be fine.”

“I wouldn’t risk it,” Fandral commented. “You know the bugs in these parts? If they see a person not properly covered, then they’ll be on to you in a moments—”

“Then we shall share,” Loki snapped. “We have managed all day, this shall be no different.”

“Are you sure?” Anthony asked, though there was something in his tone which suggested he already knew the answer.

Thor’s lips turned up into a grin for a moment before he stopped himself. _Of course_ Anthony knew that Loki cared. They were best friends, had been for a long while. This probably was not even the first time they had shared a bed.

Still.

That did not mean that this would fail. After all, having done something before did not mean that they would be immune to the desires of their own bodies.

Fandral and Volstagg took it upon themselves to tease Loki and Anthony until the pair left in a huff to set their bed up a fair distance away from the others, and then Thor had to press his lips together to hold in a laugh as he watched his two friends exchange a subtle high-five. Hopefully, their efforts would not be in vain and the semi privacy would do Thor’s brother and his _love_ some good.

And as they all readied to go to sleep, Thor couldn’t help but smile fondly as he watched the two of them curl together under their blankets, whispering quietly between themselves.

Thor certainly _wasn’t_ smiling, however, when he woke the next morning to find that _nothing had changed_.

Surely, something should have? Even if the closeness hadn’t caused one of them to give in and kiss the other, or it hadn’t led to a whispered confession– _surely_ there was something else that their closeness would have resulted in?

Was it not natural for a man to be afflicted in a certain manner in the mornings, _especially_ when they had spent the night in the arms of the person they desired more than any other?

Well, apparently not for Loki and Anthony, for they were both awake and moving around the camp before Thor had even opened his eyes.

Anthony already had a fire started, and Loki was seeing to the horses.

The rest of the group exchanged various looks of disappointment and frustration throughout the morning, but it wasn’t until they were riding and hunting again that they were able to exchange any words without risking being overheard.

“One of ‘em woke up, realised he was hard, and got out of bed as quickly as he could,” Volstagg whispered. “That has to be it.”

“Unfortunately, I think you must be right,” Thor groaned. “We’re just going to have to come up with something else.”

But, of course, Anthony and Loki were still too close to risk voicing a plan– so Thor loudly challenged everyone to another race.

“Must you?” Loki groaned.

“You’ll scare off the game,” Anthony warned them.

“Perhaps,” Fandral replied gleefully. “But we’ll have fun doing it.”

Thor laughed at Loki’s eyeroll as he urged his horse on and charged off through the trees, the others giving chase close behind.

Thankfully, for once, Loki and Anthony did what Thor hoped, and remained at their slow, comfortable pace– giving the others a chance to come up with another, somewhat desperate plan.

**_+one._ Loki and Anthony. **

Okay, look. Thor _knew_ that it was a bad idea. They all did. None of them were lacking in sense – not overly so, anyway – and they all recognised how very easily this could go wrong.

But, they did it anyway.

Was it only the day before that Thor had dismissed the idea of riling up Loki’s horse to increase the friction between Anthony’s ass and Loki’s groin?

(By the Norns, if Loki ever found out about any of this then Thor’s own groin was never going to be the same again.)

They had managed to come up with a plan, and this time, by all the Norns, it was going to work. It _had_ to work, because if it didn’t then Thor was going to have more problems on his hands than just a brother who was pining.

You know. Like he might. Have a brother who was dead—

Or if not, then certainly on a murderous rampage.

 _So the plan had better work,_ right?

Right.

And okay, look. So maybe sending Volstagg out to draw in a bilgesnipe and then setting it in the direction of Anthony and Loki’s horse was not the _best_ way to put them in a life-threatening situation in order to create the right kind of heightened drama they were going for, but… well.

No, Thor didn’t really have an excuse for that, other than perhaps the fact that he was doing it for those two idiots’ own good.

That thought wasn’t very comforting, however, when they heard Loki scream.

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise. It was the whole plan, after all. They _wanted_ Loki and Anthony in danger, to make them high on the rush of battle so then, when they were euphoric on _survival_ , they would come together in passionate embrace. There was also the chance that one would be injured, and the other would have to care for them and feelings would be revealed that way.

But when Thor heard that scream, all of his plans went out of the window, and he galloped straight through the trees and back toward his brother. None of the others tried to stop him– Thor could hear them right behind him, and he was grateful for their presence.

When they reached their friends, the bilgesnipe was nowhere to be seen, and nor was the horse. Anthony was lying on the ground, unmoving– and Loki was kneeling over him, his hands cupping Anthony’s face.

“Anthony, Anthony,” Loki begged. “Come on, wake up– _Anthony—”_

Thor dismounted in a hurry and stumbled toward his brother, his eyes forward, searching for movement, for a breath, for anything. He fell to his knees beside Loki, but Loki didn’t even seem to notice. Thor felt _sick,_ bile rising up his throat as Loki’s desperate pleas tore at his ears and broke through his heart. He barely even noticed all the others crowding around, equally horrified. 

This was his fault, all his fault—

Then Anthony groaned, and he pulled his head from Loki’s grasp.

“Get off, Lokes,” Anthony muttered, “’m fine, it just, took my surprise.”

Thor let out a sigh of relief– but Loki, it seemed, didn’t have time for that. He just skipped Thor’s carefully planned emotional response and moved straight toward _anger_.

“You fell off the horse,” Loki snapped back. “Do _not_ tell me that you’re fine. Tell me where it hurts.”

“No—”

“ _Anthony—”_

“I’m not lying, I swear I’m okay. Will you just quit it!”

“I only want to make sure that you’re—”

“Why are you two _arguing!?”_ It was only when everyone, including Loki and Anthony, turned to stare at Thor that he realised he had shouted his thoughts aloud.

Perhaps he could have played it off, told them to quiet down and then gone to get supplies to help Loki check whether Anthony was injured, or maybe to start tracking down the horse. But… well. They’d tried everything, hadn’t they? They’d set them up on a date, they’d tried to make them fall into each other’s arms, to put them in situations where their bodies would press together and their desires would be impossible to ignore. Hel, they had even engineered a situation for one to save the other’s life, thus creating the perfect time for a confession. But had anything made its way through those thick skulls?

 _No_. Not a single, _obvious_ thing.

Maybe there was no sneaky plan in the Nine which would ever be good enough. Maybe the pair needed it hammered into them with all the force and subtlety of Mjölnir.

Really, what did they have to lose?

So, Thor pinned them both with a heavy stare, and finally - some two hundred years after he probably should have - he began to speak the truth.

“There is no need for arguments. Anthony, Loki is worried, and Loki– he just doesn’t want to worry you, all right? By the Nine,” Thor groaned. “How are you both so blind?”

Loki and Anthony exchanged glances that betrayed that fact that they clearly thought Thor had lost his mind– and Thor just about _snapped_.

“Anthony, Loki loves you,” he growled. “And Loki, Anthony loves _you._ You both love each other, for Norn’s sake, so will you please just kiss and put us _all_ out of our misery?”

“Uh, Thor?” Anthony started, his tone frustratingly disbelieving– Thor held up a hand to stop him.

“What about this don’t you understand?” Thor asked. “Please, I am _begging_ you—”

“Thor,” Loki interrupted, speaking slowly. “Anthony and I have been courting for almost two centuries.”

“I know you’ve been pining for—” Thor stopped. And stared. And gaped for a moment, maybe, just until he got control of his voice again. “ _What?”_

“We didn’t want anyone to know,” Anthony said. “Since, you know. Since I’m—”

“Too good for me,” Loki cut in. Anthony was sitting now, and the way they leaned against each other… well, Thor had seen them do that before, but he’d always thought it was unintentional.

Anthony swatted at Loki’s arm before continuing in his explanation. “We just wanted to be able to be ourselves,” he said. “And we knew we couldn’t, if everyone knew. If word got out that the prince was courting a blacksmith, then we’d never be left alone.”

“Well,” said Sif, her voice carefully blank in that manner Thor knew to mean that she was completely and utterly shocked and doing her utmost to hide it. “I suppose you are not wrong there.”

“Of course not,” Loki said, rolling his eyes. “We’re not idiots.”

Someone made a noise that was pretty close to pained whine. Maybe it was Thor. Maybe it was more than just one of them. Either way, it was a sentiment shared pretty strongly throughout.

“This whole time,” Thor muttered. “You two have just… been using our attempts to get yourself more alone time, haven’t you?”

Anthony laughed. “Were you trying to set us up?” He laughed again, bright and delighted as he slapped Fandral, who was nearest to him, on the back. Fandral replied with some quip, and he and Anthony were joined by the others– but Thor’s attention was drawn by his brother.

Loki’s gaze had followed Anthony at first, just like it always had– and his eyes were soft and loving. And when he turned to Thor, there was something almost… hopeful about him.

“You truly do not mind then?” Loki asked, more tentative than Thor had heard him in a while. “That Anthony and I are together?”

“Mind?” Thor laughed. “Loki, I’m so _happy_ for you. Just, maybe next time, tell us before we almost get someone killed in the name of your happiness, perhaps?”

Loki merely grinned at that, his usual mischievous glint in his eye– and Thor knew that he wouldn’t hear the end of this for a _very_ long time.

Oh, well. Anything that made Loki smile like that was worth a little bit of taunting. All he wanted, after all, was for Loki to be happy.

**Author's Note:**

> Thor almost regrets all this when he realises they’ve swapped putting up with Anthony and Loki’s longing looks for putting up with PDA.  
>   
>  _Almost,_ but not quite.


End file.
